Lost in Fog PV

Polonius blinked and lifted his head up from the paper he had been poring over, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger as his gaze settled on Magdalena. He had made only a brief impression on his de facto boss. Perhaps his lack of social grace and general aloofness had served him well when meeting the Head of Hufflepuff. He was not prone to excessive conversation, something which made him appear as professional, rather than antisocial, when there was work to be done in the world of healing.

A call for help was all he needed to hear before he sprang into action, letting out a quiet grunt of pain as he accidentally smashed his hip into the edge of his desk. A few papers spilled off and fluttered onto the ground, the nurse stepping between them as he approached Magdalena and her unfortunate ward.

With a heave, Polonius laid Dealla out on the bed and began to inspect her for the source of her affliction. "In the school?" he repeated. He doubted it, but stranger things had happened at Hogwarts. It would not have been the first time such dangerous creatures ran amok in the castle. A grave look crossed the nurse's face when Magdalena explained the source of their ills - the attempting of a ritual. But he simply clenched his jaw and hummed, moving forward with the process. "Right."

This would mark the first interesting case that had been dragged into the hospital wing so far during Polonius' tenure - not a sports injury, nor a common curse, nor simple homesickness. The magic of hags was as wicked and varied as the rest of their behavior. Polonius hummed softly, scratching at his scruffy beard as he considered the girl.

"Wideye Potion," he agreed, watching the Head of Hufflepuff as she hurried off out the door. He had so many questions regarding the state the student had been found in... what her name was, perhaps... the nature of the ritual. Information was power, in these cases, and at the moment, he was fighting blind.

He leaned over the girl, leaning in to listen and check her breathing and circulation. Two fingers at the neck counted her pulse, the nurse watching the clock and counting the beats he could feel under his fingers. Only a cursory inspection to ensure that the patient, though unresponsive, could still be recovered. Was it truly likely that a hag was wandering around the school, coaxing children into attending rituals? No, surely not... perhaps she was tricked, poisoned... the wideye potion would do to wake her up, though with few of those on hand, he moved to the cabinet with the nurse's stock of common antidotes and began fumbling with the lock. Something in here would have to help...

“So they say,” Magdalena’s answer to the nurse’s enquiry was non-committal, she hardly believed that one of the students was a hag anymore than he seemed to. But such issues could be sorted out at a later date, in the meantime Dealla was doing her best impression of Snow White, or perhaps Sleeping Beauty.

Leaving the girl in the very capable hands of Nurse Frogge, Magdalena took to brewing the potion, in hopes that it would serve as some form of cure. With the draught brewing, her return to the infirmary would be much more leisurely, the worryment reduced by the fact that she had no control over the situation for the time being. The potion would be brewing for the next eight hours, and as she waited for it to come to fruition, it was all that she could do to think over the situation.

Whatsoever questions the nurse had, she would do her best to answer, but she would not leave the infirmary, not while she could continue to monitor her for a worsening of the condition, or any such change.

“I’m not sure that there are hags,” Magdalena would speak aloud to the nurse, “But whatever the ritual these kids did, it sure as shit knocked Prince around.”

In due course, with the passage of time ever marching forward, Magdalena would make her exit from the infirmary and return to her potion. Finalising it, she would vial and cork the brew, only to once again return to the infirmary.

Potion in hand, she would apply it to the sleeping girl. Here’s to hoping.

@Dealla Prince @Polonius Frogge
Applying Wideye Potion to Dealla.

How different was the magic wielded by hags and that performed by a dark wizard? To a curious observer, they would be disheartened to learn that there is not much of a difference. If history could serve as a historical account of those withered crones and wizards rather than a skewed observation by wizard's incapable of abandoning their pride, they would have reached the forgone conclusion that hags are by far a greater concern than any of them have acknowledged.

The Wide Eye Potion, also known as the Awakening Potion was a logical solution, the 'antidote' for the Draught of Living Death. The coma-like state having parallels with "death" or more accurately something akin to suspended animation. If it was Draught of Living Death that the girl somehow imbued, then the potion should undo the terrible curse that maintained hold over the poor girl.

The application of the Wide Eye Potion did nothing.

The blue-green potion was a staple in Hogwarts, taught at a rather young age for good reason if this was commonplace. It was a good thought. Logical in fact, the girl was in some sort of magic-induced slumber that was ill-defined and while there were wild accusations of 'hags' the concept sounded somewhat outlandish to the learned Professor and likely to most wizards if they heard such a wild tale. History often painted hags as mad creatures that cackle as they rode brooms. Agents of chaos with no plan, they are not considered learned or cunning. Dangerous in their appetite for the flesh of children, but it was not truly hard to overpower a child... Yet, they rarely think about the details and as they say -- the devil is in the details. They flew on brooms, they put adds in the paper as babysitters, they brewed potions which were no small feat to make for even a practiced wizard. They required often a wand, the skill of a wizard, yet they were... not? That was where everyone got it wrong, they most certainly were wizard of another dark breed. Leticia Somnolens was proof positive of this, brewing a Draught of Living Death was not an elementary achievement. Capable potion-makers, both Dealla Prince and Opeila Winters would languish under the effects of this dire concoction. This was more than sleep, but rather some sort of cruel deterioration where their vitality had been sapped from them. Or... more appropriately, it was stolen from them and give n to another.

Neither of the girls knew what they had done, what they had consented to and what would become of them for the sake of another when they had granted Jack their blood. Jack Burnett likely thought himself clever when he drew blood from both girls, requiring less from each. Tethering more than one to his terrible mistake. His love for Flash Holmwood blinded him to the deal he had made. His want to undo what was done to his friend would result in cruel suffering for others. The dark magic that Jack had participated in had dire consequences for the two girls that gave him their blind trust.

Something would itch thee back of Nurse Polonius Frogge's head. This strange scratching sensation deep inside of his skull. It was troublesome, irksome and to some extent uncomfortable.



A disembodied voice only the good nurse could hear would announce.

Scratch.



A reference to the second victim.

Nurse Frogge would smell blood in the air. His blood.

The potion cabinet would start to shake a rattle. the clamor of glass clinking against one another would crescendo as the potion cabinet would topple over. Professor Magdalena Wickham-Deakin
would have to quickly move out of the way to avoid being struck by the falling bottles and cabinet and take another several steps to avoid the splash radius of the potions.

Mags avoid falling cabinet 5 + 7
Cabinet falling 5 + 10

She was not particularly nimble. The cabinet would come crashing down on her, the bottles would shatter and break and the contents, some intended to be slathered on flesh or consumed and others one might come to question why nurse Frogge had -that- potion in the Infirmary. That is a discussion for Head of House Professor Wickham-Deakin to have with Nurse Frogge at a later time (Frogge, it is your pick which potions are poured on Mags.).

There was an exception oddly enough, four intact bottles filled with a pink substance marked clearly with a tag "Wiggenweld Potion."

Note: The answer is rather obvious; I am not leaving the girls in a coma when there is a ball to be had.

"I don't understand why students insist on such things when we already sanction so many dangerous extracurricular activities..." muttered Polonius as he fiddled with the cabinet ineffectually. Sadly, being a skilled healer did not translate as well to high manual dexterity as it often did in the muggle world. Perhaps he should have reached for his wand, but for whatever reason, he was not worried. Maybe because a certain Ms. Winters had already been treated in the hospital wing by this point.

The Wideye potion was a worthy experiment - it couldn't have hurt, but sadly, it did nothing to help, either. Polonius gave a sympathetic hum as he turned his focus back on this lock... though he stopped and reached back to feel the back of his head. Something was most certainly scratching, but as he pushed his fingers through his hair, he found nothing. It was different than that - the source of the itch was inside.

"Hm...?" said the man, turning his head to the side and rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the discomfort. His eyes scanned the hospital wing through his specs, searching for the source of the disembodied voice. A shiver as he felt another scratch. Something was very wrong. Perhaps he had been too skeptical to the idea that there was an unknown threat inside Hogwarts - or at the least, some exceptionally cruel pranksters. He brought his fingers to his nose at the smell of blood, looking down at his hand and expecting to see red, but there was nothing.

"Oh- goodness!" An unexpected tremor had suddenly manifested in the potions cabinet. How curious. Polonius observed it with a sort of scientific curiosity as it toppled over and the contents shattered onto the floor - the fall broken by the Head of House. The pain of the crush would be soothed by the subsequent waterfall of balms and potions cascading out onto the poor woman as Polonius stepped over to start pushing the cabinet off of the poor lady. Primarily a combination of antidotes and balms, the injury would soon become painless as more and more slipped out.

Unfortunately, a few more niche potions were on the shelf as well. Perhaps from Polonius' personal collection? In any case, one would wonder how Manegro potion and floating potion could possible have a valid medicinal use as the suddenly hairy Head of House rose up like a balloon from underneath the cabinet. Polonius stared at her for a few moments, blinking in disbelief at the sight. Such a shame that it had been her who had to carry poor Dealla here.

Oh, right, the student. Polonius leaned over and picked up one of the surviving Wiggenwelds - of course, it was the most obvious solution, second to Wideye. If this did not work, they would need to start getting experimental with it. Bottle in hand, he walked back to the student's bedside.

Trying to ignore the bearded balloon floating in the center of the hospital wing, he popped the cork from the potion bottle and began applying it to poor sleeping Dee. She would surely think she was still in a nightmare if she woke up and saw the mess and the flying professor. "This ought to help - I'll be with you momentarily, Professor."

The hiss that escaped from under Magdalena’s breath wasn’t pretty, nor was it particularly dignified, it was the rough sound of a field-worker who was far from accustomed to failure. She’d assumed they’d somehow messed around with the Draught of Living Death, as to why or how, she did not know, but it was the only logical explanation she could muster for how the girl had come to pass out so quickly and so utterly.

“Sial*,” She muttered the curse under her breath in Malay.

The newly appointed Head of House could not begin to put into words just how frustrated with her failure she was. The girl had come to her for help, had relied upon her, and she’d failed. There would have to be other potions to try, it would merely be a matter of brewing the right one. Initial failure did not sit well with her in any event, and the grimace and frown that sat in harmony upon her otherwise stony visage were testament enough to that. Of course, her preoccupation with thinking as to future solutions left her utterly unprepared for what happened next.

The cabinet fell down upon her before she had a chance to react. The smallest of yelps would escape from her throat, and only the most tokenistic of attempts would be made to dodge. It was all too little too late, and the wooden cabinet fell down upon her. Bottles of potions shattered and covered her prone form and glass and splinters punctured her skin with small but painful bites. Fortunately enough, there were more than enough healing potions within the cabinet to immediately ease the pains and throbs, leaving her as healthy as could be.

Of course, healthiness did not mean that she was in a particularly decent state. Manegro Potion and Floating Potion had evidently doused her, such was evident the second that she found herself raising from the ground like a balloon, her rapidly growing red locks obscuring her vision as hair extended down past her eye line.

“Tell anyone of this,” She growled to Polonius, “And I swear to Christ that I will end you.”

It was humiliating, laying aloft in the air whilst the nurse took to applying another potion to the sleeping student.

A few momentary seconds were required for the professor to steady herself, but she did eventually manage to come to grips with her newfound state as a human recreation of the Hiddenberg. Brushing her ever-growing hair from her eyes was the more frustrating.

“What are you giving her?” She enquired, desperately trying to take attention away from her own predicament.

@Dealla Prince @Polonius Frogge
*lit. cursed but used in the context of 'shit'